


Mr. Pickles gets a bath

by trombonistnicole



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 11:05:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15772848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trombonistnicole/pseuds/trombonistnicole
Summary: Shiro takes away Keith's knife. Keith isn't pleased.





	Mr. Pickles gets a bath

Keith moved the chicken around on his plate, already shredded by his fork. He stared the meat down, gaze intently focused on his food. As far as Shiro could tell, he hadn't eaten much of anything, and the dull look in his eyes, the slouch to his posture, suggested that he wasn't going to, either.

“Keith, you need to eat,” Shiro entreated.

“Not hungry,” the cadet grunted. He let his fork fall to the plate with a clatter. He stood up, pushing his chair back out of his way. “I'm going to my room.”

Shiro sighed. “Just a couple bites?”

“I'm not hungry,” Keith growled, tone growing more aggressive by the second. He stormed off to his room, despite Shiro’s insistent protests.

“Adam, what am I doing wrong?”

His boyfriend looked at him. “Did you upset him?” he asked.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“He's probably just in a funk, Adam,” Shiro grumbled. “How do I fish him out of it?”

Adam exhaled. “Takashi, have you considered there might  _ actually  _ be something wrong?”

“Well…”

“What was your last interaction with him?” Adam prompted. “Maybe that could shed some light?”

“I asked if he'd done his homework and he said that he had, so I said good job and left,” Shiro described. “He seemed pretty normal at that point.”

Adam furrowed his brow. “And you haven't done anything else that might have upset him?”

“Why are you so insistent that I'm the cause?” Shiro questioned. “Couldn't it have been someone or something else?”

He shook his head. “This feels more personal. I don't know. One way or another, I'm pretty sure this isn't just a funk.”

  
  


Maybe if he searched around a bit longer he'd find it. Maybe it just fell under the bed or was lodged between the bed and the wall. Anything other than the alternative. 

Anything other than Shiro taking it away.

He had, Keith had no real doubt of that. With each second he spent looking for the knife, the pit in his stomach grew. 

Shiro had taken away his knife. He promised he wouldn't take anything away from him, that his things were  _ his things.  _ But one of the only things he cared about, the  _ only  _ thing he cared about enough to hide, that's what Shiro took from him.

He broke his promise. He'd sworn he'd be different, that he wouldn't hurt Keith, that he'd make him know that he was loved and cared for. He promised that he would love him no matter what. That he trusted him. That he wanted him to be happy.

He lied.

He lied about everything, didn't he? Everything was a lie! The plush hippo clenched in his hands? Fake kindness. There was no real warmth there. He was tempted to throw him across the room, just because. But it was so soft, so nice to hold that he just hugged it tighter to his chest. Why did he trust him? Why did he allow himself to open up, to get comfortable, to hope that maybe Shiro really would be different, really would love and respect him. He was better off trusting no one at all! Everyone said how nice love was, but every time Keith loved someone he just got hurt. What was the point? The handful of months that he was happy? Did that make up for the misery he felt in that moment?

Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and he struggled to keep his breathing even, forcing back the sobs in his throat. He tried to focus on something,  _ anything  _ else, but he couldn't. All that he could feel was the sense of betrayal, the agony of such a personal wound. 

He didn't know how long he lied there, trying to keep quiet through the tears. Finally they slowed to a stop, and he tried to school his expression. One look at his reflection on his phone told him that he was not near presentable. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks shining with tears he hadn't bothered to wipe away, nose and cheeks flushed.

Right as he was pondering how to avoid Shiro and Adam, he heard a knock at his door.

“Go away!” he snapped, turning his head towards the offending noise.

“Keith,” Shiro faltered, tone both gentle and unsure. “Please let me in.”

_ I will never let you in again. _

“No.”

“I need to know what's wrong,” Shiro explained. “Let me in so we can-”

“No,” Keith repeated.

A pause. “I need to know what I did.”

Keith's thoughts froze. He was accepting responsibility? He knew that he was the reason why Keith had just cried into a Mr. Pickles’s soft fabric for who knows how long?

“I know that I hurt you, and I want to make it right. I want you to know that you're safe with me. I would never hurt you on purpose. I'm trying to do everything I can to make you happy, make you feel comfortable and safe, but I'm not good at this. I've never done anything like this before. Please help me help you. Please help me… love you.”

Keith couldn't hold back the sob that escaped his throat. He'd sworn that he wouldn't let Shiro hurt him, not again, not again, but one speech later and… Keith just wanted his hugs, to feel his warm arms wrapped around his tiny, formerly malnourished body. He didn't want to trust him, but he also wanted more than anything to trust him. 

“I'm coming in.”

Keith didn't make any move to stop him.

He was facing the wall, back to the door, so he heard Shiro's footsteps well before he saw him.

Shiro stopped next to Keith's bed and stooped slightly. “Keith?”

“What.”

“Please tell me what I did,” Shiro begged, resting his hand on Keith's shoulder.

A part of Keith wanted to lean into that touch but- 

He jerked away. “Don't touch me!”

The older man retracted his hand. “Alright, I won't touch you,” he agreed, holding his hands up as proof.

After several seconds of silence, Keith bit out, “You lied.”

“What?” Shiro queried.

“You said you wouldn't take anything away from me. You lied.”

Keith could hear the gears turning in Shiro's head, and the way his breath caught in his throat in his moment of realization.

“Oh, Keith, I'm so sorry,” he apologized. “I just-”

“No, Shiro!” Keith shouted. “You lied to me! You promised you would never hurt me. You said you'd never make me… feel like this.”

Something changed in Shiro's breathing, and Keith couldn't stop himself from turning to look. Tears were welling up in his eyes, squinted to try to hold them back. “Keith… I'm so sorry,” he repeated, breath ragged. “I know that doesn't make up for it, doesn't make what I did ok in any regard, but I want to make it up to you. I love you so much, and I hate to see you in pain.” Tears were flowing freely down Shiro's cheeks, reaching his hard jaw and dripping off towards the floor. “Keith, I-”

Keith wanted to tell him that that knife was the only gift his mother gave him, save a broken heart and an abandonment complex. That it was the only possession he really cared about- though Mr. Pickles was more important than he preferred to admit. But those words were stuck, and instead he just fell, tumbling into Shiro’s arms as broken sobs emerged from his lips. The older man caught him and held him close, rocking him gently and whispering soft reassurances. Shiro’s tears dripped onto the top of Keith's head, just as Keith's soaked into Shiro's shirt. 

“I love you,” Shiro whispered.

“I love you too.”

 

That night, as Keith lied wedged between Shiro and Adam, face nestled into the crook of Shiro's neck, with Adam's arm draped over his side and Shiro's gentle snoring filling the room, Keith allowed himself to once again hope that he'd found his family at last.


End file.
